


Dirty Weekend

by KoreArabin



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, And so on and so on..., BDSM, Beating, Bondage, Cock Rings, Electricity, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Gags, Kink, M/M, Needles, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Pervery, S&M, Sex Toys, Sounding, Spanking, Vibrator, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-19 10:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 13,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoreArabin/pseuds/KoreArabin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The "old, saggy cloth cat, baggy, and a bit loose at the seams" quote comes from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bagpuss/">Bagpuss</a>, a 1970s UK TV series featuring a large, saggy, pink and white striped cat stuffed toy named Bagpuss who, along with other toys/furniture, comes to life.</p>
<p>Both Jim and Seb, having (presumably) been born in the 1970s, would be familiar with Bagpuss, and would get the "saggy cloth cat" reference.</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It's at times like this, Sebastian believes that there surely must be a God. A God of delectable, wriggling, ready-to-fuck packages. Oh. And moaning. Delectable, wriggling, _moaning_ , ready-to-fuck packages.

The package in question is his boss, one James Moriarty, currently stripped totally naked, ball-gagged, shiny black duck tape binding various parts of his anatomy. His ankles, his thighs, his arms (strapped behind him in a black, shiny, arm binding), and his torso (arm binding strapped to it at waist and mid-way up the biceps). Oh, and the plug taped securely into his arsehole. 

The _vibrating_ plug. The one that's making the consulting criminal squirm and wriggle and _moan_ , face down on the kingsize bed, desperately trying to fuck the bedcover. _Desperately_ because his cock and balls are locked tightly in a rather ferocious cockstrap and, rut and fuck as vigorously as he can, he won't be able to come until it's released.

Sebastian stands at the foot of the bed, naked, stroking his erection as Jim's arse bobs up and down, quivering as his muscles contract. "Jesus, Boss, you look so fucking lush. All taped up like a wriggly little worm, your arse waving about in the air, just begging to be fucked."

"Mmmph, mmmph, mmmph", is all Seb gets in response. And a ferocious glare. Well, as ferocious a glare as one can give over one's shoulder, when one is bound from tip to toe, the buzzing from one's arse clearly audible over one's moaning.

Seb chuckles. Jim agreed to this, this dirty weekend away. Agreed to stay at the perviest little cottage the Somerset countryside has ever contained. The mellow Bath stone cottage, on the outskirts of the sleepy village, is picturesque olde Englande at its best.


	2. Chapter 2

The simple, thick, antique wooden door leads into what, at first sight, is simply a beautifully presented, authentic olde worlde cottage. The living room the door opens on to is certainly exactly that: a worn flagstone floor, with brightly coloured rugs placed in front of the long, deep cushioned, red and cream striped sofa covered with patchwork and crewelwork cushions, a low, beamed ceiling and an inglenook fireplace taking up most of one wall. It is cosy and homely and everything one could want in a relaxing weekend getaway.

But _then_ , exploring the other rooms, they come across the incredibly authentic-looking rack, constructed to rest on a stout iron cage underneath it. In the corner of the room there is a sturdy whipping bench, upholstered in glowing leather, whilst in the other corner stands a St Andrew's Cross, covered with restraint straps. Chains hang from hooks in the ceiling, and there are similar hooks set into the flagstoned floor.

The bedroom is similarly equipped, a four-poster bed, again festooned with hooks and metal loops for bondage, with another, smaller, metal cage positioned at the end of it. One wall is covered with shelves on which reside every possible type of kinky implement either of them could have ever fantasised about. Hoods, gags, collars, cuffs and straps, harnesses, dildoes, buttplugs and cockrings occupy a number of shelves, whilst more threatening items such as electrical prods and probes sit on others. 

The en suite bathroom is free of any obvious kinkiness, but a white-tiled room adjoining it boasts a gynae chair, again covered in straps and belts for restraining its occupant, as well as lockable stirrups which winch up and outwards to a rather eye-watering extent. The room's shelves are full of medical equipment, and Jim's eyes light up at the huge array of clamps, needles, and scalpels on display.


	3. Chapter 3

Poor little Jimmikins looks so miserable, bouncing away to no avail against the bed. 

Sebastian winds a couple more taut stretches of duck tape around Jim's thighs. He wants them tightly bound together for what he intends to do next. The pale expanse of flesh between the shiny black layers of tape on Jim's thighs and arse looks so delicious, as Jim mmmphs and wriggles. Seb straddles his bound legs and manoeuvres one of the wonderfully provided thick leather covered bolsters under Jim's midriff.

Mmmmm. Excellent. The wriggly worm's arse canted upwards, and his thighs bound tightly together. Seb wastes no time in squirting lube into the pale space between the top of the thigh bindings and Jim's buzzing arsehole. As if anticipating that he's not going to get a lovely, prostate stimulating, arse fuck after all, Jim starts wriggling harder than ever.

"Shush, shush, baby. Something a little different for now." Seb works the lube into the sensitive skin between Jim's thighs, allowing the tips of his fingers to brush lightly over the back of his balls, as he lubricates the tight space thoroughly.

Jim, by the way he moans and bucks, has discovered that his inner upper thighs are excruciatingly sensitive. _Good_. Sebastian presses the head of his swollen cock into that tight, lubricated space, and begins to fuck.

To fuck as hard as he wants, not needing to concern himself with any tearing or damage that might occur were he fucking an arsehole. Every stroke of his rigid prick pushes against Jim's bound, swollen ballsack and, if the muffled sounds escaping from Jim's gag are anything to go by, stimulating the bound consulting criminal beyond endurance.

"No, baby, no coming for you. You only get to come when Tiger allows it. You're Tiger's fucktoy this weekend, and Tiger's going to use you, going to use you to do whatever the fuck he wants, and you'll just be tied down to be fucked, come on and hurt. 

And now I'm going to come right between your legs. Not up your arse, just all over your thighs, and against the back of your balls. And won't that be so sticky and itchy once it starts drying, baby? It'll make you think of me all the while I leave you tied down and wanting to come and wanting to scratch all _my_ itchy come away. 

If you want me to fuck you in the arse, you've got to beg for it, darling. Beg really well, convince me that I should put my cock up your arse. If you don't manage to beg properly, well. There's the cages - at the end of the bed, or in the playroom. I can leave you totally helpless in either, rubbing your poor swollen cock and your itchy backside against the bars in frustration.

Mmmmm. I think I'll do that, anyways, once I'm finished here. Whilst you're tied up and gagged, your arse and balls itching away with all that drying come, I want you to rehearse your begging. Think how you're going to make it really good, really _persuasive_. Because if you don't beg well enough, I'll fuck your thighs again and leave you coated in another itchy layer of come. 

And this is just Friday night, babes. We have the whole weekend ahead of us."


	4. Chapter 4

He's fucked Jim in this way three times now. Jim has virtually given up on the wriggling and trying to fuck the mattress, and is lying still, moaning every so often, and trying to rub his thighs together. Seb's come has pooled between them, and most of it has dried into opaque streaks across the back of Jim's legs and on his buttocks. Time for a little mercy, perhaps. Even though Jim has agreed to be Seb's fucktoy this weekend, Seb wants him to enjoy the experience. He knows Jim will enjoy it _anyways_ , being the masochistic little fucker he is, but Sebastian wants to give him a few little treats too, to enhance his pleasure.

So, turning Jim over, he breathes warm, wet air over the head of Jim's swollen cock, lapping lightly at the slit, licking away the precome which has gathered there since he tied Jim down. Jim groans behind his gag, and jerks his hips, trying to force more of his cock into Sebastian's mouth. 

"Ssh, baby, ssh. I'm going to get you off, but slowly, yeah? I'm going to make you come so hard, baby, swallow down all the come you want to give me, then lick away all that nasty itchy come on you. Lick you nice and clean, yeah, babes?" 

Sebastian begins to lave the length of Jim's cock, alternating between tonguing in long, wet, stripes, and suckling at the engorged head, and sucking and slurping at his balls. Jim is soon a moaning, wriggling mess again, jerking helplessly in his restraints, as Seb pulls aside the tape locking the vibrator in his arse, replacing it with his fingers, which he uses to stroke Jim's prostate as he sucks hard on his cock. 

"Do you want to come, baby? Do you want Tiger to let you come?" Seb crooks his fingers inside Jim, stimulating him less gently, as he runs his teeth over the glans of Jim's penis and gently down the frenulum, digging the tip of his tongue once again into the leaking slit.

Jim struggles violently, the loud _mmmphs_ from behind his gag indicating that yes, he would like to come, thank you very much, Tiger. Sebastian quickly unclips the strap that's been tormenting Jim's cock and balls, and sucks hard, taking the whole of Jim's length and relaxing his throat to let the head butt against the back of his throat. With a strangled, muffled, scream, Jim arches, his head thrown back and the muscles of his neck cording as he orgasms, shooting three hot gouts of come into Sebastian's waiting mouth.

Mmmmmmmm. Sebastian swallows Jim's load eagerly, and continues to suckle gently at his Boss' prick until it has softened, and Jim is moaning again in sensitivity at the overstimulation. Seb cuts away the tape securing Jim's ankles and thighs and, before setting to licking Jim clean, removes the tight ballgag.

"Tiger, oh _fuck_ , Tiger. Jesus Christ. Fuck me."

"Not quite, Boss. I'm happy being Tiger; no ambitions to be the big JC."

Jim looks at him, his eyes focussing then from their drugged-looking state. "Fuck, Tiger, sometimes, when you fuck me, you just about take me right over that old rainbow."

Sebastian smiles. "There's plenty more of that to come, baby. Fucking, and torture, and clamps, and needles... But, for now, I'm going to untie you, and lick you sparkling clean, yeah? Then we can have a lovely fucking deep, hot bath, something to eat, and then you can kneel down and beg me to fuck your arse."

Jim snuggles down into the bedcovers. "Tiger, darling, that sounds like a plan."


	5. Chapter 5

Seb has given Jim a relaxing scrub and massage in the divine hot tub, and Jim's been made to return the favour - the little shit wouldn't do it unless reminded of his forfeit status this weekend - and they've eaten and relaxed. Now it's time for James to _beg_.

It didn't take much after Seb had fed Jim for his cock to start swelling again. Jim's still naked, wrists cuffed behind his back, and kneeling on a pile of thick, fluffy cushions beside him as Sebastian tucks into an assortment of delicious cold meats, cheeses, pickles and salad, feeding Jim mouthfuls of the food, or making him lick cubes of cheese or fruit from the floor. Jim is, of course, an utter slut in these situations, tilting his arse up and wiggling it provocatively at Seb as he licks up the food morsels, ensuring that his licking is as loud and filthy as possible.

There are also portions of a rich chocolate mousse in the fridge, and Seb gets a kinky thrill from spreading the ice cold pudding over the tip of his cock - it's _fucking_ cold - before beckoning Jim to kneel between his spread legs.

The choke chain hanging in the bedroom was just asking to be used, and Seb slips it over Jim's head, tightening it around his throat, before pulling Jim in close to suckle at his cock. Jim moans deep in his throat as he licks and sucks the rich dessert from Seb's cock. "More, babes?"

Jim purrs, breathily. "Yes, please, _Sir_." He is _such_ a slut. 

Seb spreads more of the cold pudding over the head of his cock, smearing it down the shaft and over his balls, hissing again at the coldness.

"C'mon, sweetcheeks, lick it all up. Lick me clean."

"Oh, tiger, I was _made_ to lick and suck and _slurp_ at your cock. And this choccy stuff is _so_ delish."

Jim sets to work licking Seb's cock and balls clean of the mousse, slurping filthily as he moans and flutters his eyelashes. Seb yanks the choke chain, hard. "You don't have to be _quite_ such a slut, James. Just suck me clean, you dirty little fucker."

Jim huffs and moues, but sets to licking and sucking avidly as Seb sighs in contentment, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, relishing the delicious sensations the combination of cold mousse and Jim's warm mouth are producing on his prick and balls. When he feels the tingling of incipient orgasm building in his groin, he curls the choke leash in his fist and pulls Jim off of his cock. Jim is something of a mess, the chocolate smears around his mouth making him look, rather endearingly, like a little boy who's just finished an ice cream.

Sebastian takes Jim's face in his hands and pulls him up to him, licking up the smudges of mousse, before kissing him deeply, forcing his tongue into Jim's mouth and down his throat. Jim kisses him back hungrily, trying to dominate him, but Seb's having none of that. He pulls the choke chain tight around Jim's throat and mashes their mouths together, ramming his tongue once again into Jim's throat, cutting off Jim's airway until the little shit's moaning and struggling. Sebastian pulls his mouth away from Jims' and stands, tugging the shorter man up by the leash.

"No. I'm in charge this weekend, sweetheart. You lost the forfeit, remember? So don't try it on, Jimmy, yeah?"

Jim sticks his bottom lip out, sulkily. "I was only trying to _snog_ you, _Seb-as-ti-an_. Anyone'd think you didn't want my tongue down your throat."

"Yeah, well, babes, I'd prefer my prick down yours. You're playing up, Jimmikins, and you know what I do to naughty boys who misbehave?"

Sebastian takes no time in dragging Jim down over his lap, planting the end of the leash under his left foot, holding it down, whilst he positions Jim's cock between his legs. Jim struggles, but is held securely over Seb's lap, his arse beautifully presented for punishment.

"Naughty, slutty, little boys like you, _James_ , get a bloody good spanking. So, c'mon, slut, count 'em out. Any you miss, we're going back to the start, so count _real_ good, babes."


	6. Chapter 6

Jim wriggles violently, kicking Seb's shins as hard as he can, then effectively trying to launch himself forwards off of his lap. "No fucking way, _tiger_. If you don't want to snog me, you can fuck right off. Weekend's _over_ , Moran."

It takes very little for Sebastian to pull Jim back up into position, one hand on the back of his neck and the other between his legs, squeezing Jim's balls. "Oh, no, _James_. No, love, this is going to happen. No backing out, no fucking quiching out, fucker. You're going to be spanked, and _way_ worse, now, babes."

Seb grabs the end of the choke leash and stands, dragging Jim off immediately towards the bedroom. Jim half crawls, half stumbles after him, swearing and struggling. Seb ignores him, simply holding the leash taut as he selects various implements and items of paraphenalia from the shelves. Satisfied, he sits on the edge of the bed and drags Jim towards him.

It is such a turn on for Seb when Jim resists. Jim's stronger than he looks, but he's a weedy little git compared to his sniper. For all Jim's struggling, in no time Seb has him secured over his lap once again. This time, however, Seb's not expecting Jim to count out the slaps on his arse. 

Seb holds Jim down whilst forcing the thick, long, penis-shaped gag into his mouth, completely filling it, then buckling the heavy leather straps of the gag tightly around his head. Jim is totally silenced, and totally incensed about it, from the way he continues to struggle, and rage ineffectually against the gag. 

Seb postpones the spanking for another day, deciding that the other bits of kit he's grabbed from the shelves are far, far more appropriate for the little shit in the mood he's in. He drags Jim up the bed, dumping him on his back and straddling his waist as he gets the next implement of restraint ready for Jim.

It's a simple piece of apparatus, really. A metal bar, roughly 80cm or so long, with locking ankle cuffs at each end. Locking wrist cuffs are set about 10cm in from the ends and, in the centre of the bar there is a solid metal loop, so that the bar can be attached to a hoist or hook to raise the restrained person's wrists and ankles into the air or to set up the perfect predicament for him or her to struggle against. 

Jim, predictably, struggles, but Seb has his ankles locked into the cuffs very easily. Unlocking the cuffs behind Jim's back is slightly more problematic but, with a bit of physical aggression, Jim's wrists are locked into the inner cuffs. Jim's legs and arms are now all locked in line into the same bar and, when Seb attaches a chain to the hook at the centre and locks it to the headboard, Jim is left lying on his back, his wrists cuffed up and in front of him, and his ankles out to the side of his wrists.

Jim's genitals and arse are, in this position, laid totally open and vulnerable. Taking utter advantage of this, Seb locks a stainless steel cock cage over Jim's scrotum, so that his genitals are totally confined. Jim won't be having an erection anytime soon without his cock getting prickled and squeezed by the cage.

Time to fuck the little shit. Seb stuffs a couple of pillows under Jim's buttocks and begins to finger his swollen, lubed up, arsehole. Jim's still pretty loose from the vibrator, but not loose enough to accommodate Sebastian's prodigious girth and length without some - no - without a _lot_ \- of discomfort. Accordingly, Seb presses eagerly into the delicious, wet hole laid out before him, taking no notice of the muffled noises emanating from the wedge gag, or the struggling of the restrained _fuckhole_ exposed for his taking.

The little shit forgot his place; forgot his forfeit. He could have had a scrummy time bottoming for Seb, but he's fucked that up. So he gets to just have to take whatever Seb wants to do to him. And, as Seb pointed out previously, this is only Friday night.


	7. Chapter 7

But - those eyes. Dark, doe-like. Black, bottomless pools. Normally, Sebastian would allow himself to fall into them and be lost, drugged with lust and arousal, Jim's pupils blown so wide that his eyes glitter black like polished obsidian, but doesn't want to look into them as he fucks Jim like this; Jim utterly helpless, utterly humiliated. Trussed up like a fucking turkey, cock shrivelled in its cage, arse utterly defenceless.

So he grabs a leather strap and tightens it around Jim's head. Now Jim's eyes are closed, and Seb can ram his prick into the tight, wet fuckhole without compunction. And he does, fingers digging hard into Jim's hips, slamming into him, all the time panting to himself under his breath. _Take it. Take it, cunt. Take it right up your arse. Deep inside you. Nothing you can do except take what I give you._

He leans forward and whispers raggedly into Jim's ear. "I'm going to leave you so sore and swollen you won't be able to sit for the rest of the week. So, moan, bitch. Moan for me, and scream. Scream into your cock gag while I fuck you."

Jim makes garbled, unintelligible noises, and struggles, but nowhere near enough to satisfy Sebastian in such a sadistic mood. He pinches Jim's balls, first the left and then the right one, hard, eliciting a high-pitched gurgle from behind the gag, then angles his thrusts to fuck against Jim's prostate. Jim's cock of course then starts to swell in its cage, provoking more pained gurgles.

"Yeah, nice, eh, babes? Every time you even _think_ about getting a hard on, the cage is going to squeeze your cock and all those horrible, sharp little needles are going to stick into it. You manage to _get_ a hard on, your cock'll be left like a pin cushion, baby."

Seb closes his eyes and tips his head back, growling with pure animal lust as he pounds his restrained lover. He's close. He's so close. He can feel it building up, white heat in his groin, his balls tightening and his arse clenching hard as his cock erupts, pulsing long hot streams of come deep inside Jim's stretched out arse, shouting Jim's name until his throat is hoarse and he is left trembling and jerking as the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack him.

Although he's cried Jim's name repeatedly, in many ways it's the most private sex act he's ever performed; certainly it's one of the most selfish. As he recovers his senses and slumps forward, he realises that Jim is lying totally still and quiet. _Fuck_. He hasn't injured the little bastard, has he?

Sebastian pulls out of Jim as gently as he can, unable to stifle a wince as he looks at the state of Jim's reddened, swollen, anus. He winces again as he notices the tiny beads and threads of blood on Jim's cock; presumably Seb's brutal fucking left him unable to prevent himself getting hard enough for the needles to pierce the skin.

He unstraps the blindfold and the gag, and throws them to the side. Jim looks totally out of it, his eyes unfocussed and his mouth slightly open, breathing softly. 

"Jim? Baby? Are you OK?"

Seb strokes his fingers over Jim's face, tapping slightly at his cheek. He's not going to _slap_ Jim to try to bring him round - he's not fucking _stupid_ \- but he's concerned at Jim's apparent disconnect from his surroundings. It's all he can do not to let out a sob of relief when Jim's eyes focus and he manages a croaky, "Tiger?"

"Yeah, baby, yeah - _your_ tiger - I'm here."

"Fuck, tiger, what the fuck did you just do to me? I was just so fucking angry with you and you tied me up and then suddenly I was just full of your cock; my arse, my mouth, both full of it, like you were going to meet somewhere in the middle, and my cock hurt _so_ much, and I was just _gone_ , totally out of it."

"Christ, baby, I was just so... I just wanted to fuck you, and hurt you, and make you helpless, and it was just so fucking _delicious_ right inside you, I just wanted to ram my prick into you, _really_ ram it in, baby."

"And so you did, you wild fucking ferocious _cunt_ , and it _fucking_ hurt, and it _fucking_ sent me off somewhere into _fucking_ leprechaun land, feck me, so you did." 

Jim's grin is pure Cheshire Cat. "So now, _tiger_ , you can let me out of this contraption, and we'll have a look around to see how I can return the favour."


	8. Chapter 8

Sebastian swallows or, rather, _tries_ to swallow. It's probably a rather pointless task, as his mouth is held wide open by the dental gag that Jim strapped on to him earlier, his jaws stretched achingly apart. Certainly it appears to be impossible to prevent the strings of saliva drooling from the sides of his mouth, trickling down his chin and dripping on to his naked body.

He is fastened tightly into the bondage frame, his knees strapped wide apart, resting on leather-covered cushioned supports. His arms are raised above his head and attached to the corners of the frame, so that he is pulled tautly into a truncated X shape, _truncated_ since the down strokes are shortened by the fact that Seb is kneeling. In addition to the gag, Jim has fastened a thick leather posture collar tightly around his neck, so that his head is held up, stiff and straight, his field of vision limited to dead ahead and upwards, and he cannot look down at himself.

Which is of course why the sadistic little bastard's put in on him. Jim's already fiddled about doing something to his cock and balls but, apart from feeling a coldness and weight down there, Seb couldn't actually see what he was doing. The not knowing what's being _done_ to you of course makes the anticipation of what's going to _happen_ to you all the more difficult to bear. All Jim left him with, before vanishing to another part of the cottage, was a cheery, "See ya later, alligator!"

Seb twists, trying to shuffle his knees into a more comfortable position. The padded supports help to some extent, but the stretch in his inner thighs is becoming rather uncomfortable. His jaws are starting to ache, too, and the humiliating stream of drool spilling from his mouth is pooling coldly around his scrotum and running along the crease of his arse, before dripping down between his legs.

"Getting uncomfortable, Tiger? _Good_." Seb starts at the unexpected voice; he hadn't heard Jim come in. But then, Jim has an uncanny knack of suddenly appearing silently at the most unexpected times. Seb has often wondered whether Jim's fitted with casters and an inexhaustible supply of WD40, or perhaps just channels the undead to enable him to glide around so silently.

But, holy fuck. Seb's latest attempt at swallowing turns into an embarrassingly loud cross between a gurgle and a snort, as he takes in what Jim is wearing. Butter-soft, smoky grey, gleaming leather trousers cling to his slight form, low waisted, most of the strip of dark hair on Jim's lower tummy, leading down to his crotch, on show before vanishing tantalisingly below the waistband. Heavy duty biker boots, thick soled, and loosely laced to his calves, the soles adding another couple of inches to his height. Bare-chested and oiled up, his recent weight training clearly having paid off, judging by the bulk that's appeared on his biceps and pecs, even if he is still relatively small and narrow shouldered.

Jim's hair is gelled and slicked back in his trademark bad boy gangster style. But most of all, it's Jim's eyes which catch Seb's attention. Heavily lined with dark, smudged kohl, he looks like sex personified. Seb groans as all the blood in his lower body seemingly makes its way instantaneously to his cock.

Jim stands, watching Sebastian from below his eyelashes. Very deliberately, he licks the fingers of his left hand, and rubs them over his crotch. The thin, soft leather of the trousers clings to him, his half erect cock and balls clearly outlined in the crotch pouch of the trousers, his saliva only adding to the gleam of the bulging leather. Seb can literally see Jim's cock growing to full hardness as he strokes himself, and all he can do is gurgle and groan and clench his arse as he humps futilely at the air.

"Oh no, Tiger, no fucking for you, not for a while, anyways. No, no, no, Sebbikins. You were enjoying yourself far too much trussing me up and fucking me virtually insensible, not to mention leaving my cock looking like it had had a run in with a hedgehog on crack. Time for a little _quid pro quo_ , etiam, tigris?"

Seb struggles and groans. Jim speaking in tongues (well, a little pig Latin) is never a good sign. The little shit's got something nasty up his sleeve, without a doubt.


	9. Chapter 9

Jim circles Seb, continuing to stroke his crotch as he does so. With Seb bound in the bondage frame, and Jim's extra couple of inches, Jim is at just the right height to allow him to stand behind Seb and grind his crotch against Seb's naked arse. Seb pushes back, groaning. Dear God, he wants to be fucked by Jim just like this, bound and gagged, held tight and helpless whilst Jim reams his tight arse and fills him up with thick, hot come.

But Jim has other ideas. "Whoever designed the stuff in this cottage really reminds me of me. They've got a bloody filthy mind, but an intriguingly ingenious one, Sebby. It's something to think on; if ever I decide to retire from my rather prestigious career as the world's only consulting criminal, perhaps I could set up a little workshop, churning out dungeon furniture? I'd certainly give Roissy a run for their money. What do you think, tiger? Would you like to be one of my elves?"

Seb's only possible response is another muffled groan and a fresh stream of drool. Jim frowns, coming round to face his bound sniper and running his hand up through the string of saliva, before smearing it over Sebastian's face. "What a filthy boy you are, Sebbikins. No wonder I have to punish you so often. And I bet you're wondering - how is he going to punish me today? What nasty things has Daddy got in store for his naughty, dirty, little kitten? I'm right, aren't I, baby?"

Seb nods as best he can, and a wide smile breaks across Jim's face. "Oh, you are such an _adorable_ little kitten, Sebby. It just makes me want to hurt you even more!"

Jim moves yet again, behind Seb, so that he is unable to see what Jim is doing. "As I said, this really is a lovely piece of kit. In fact, so lovely, I think I should explain to you exactly how it works. I think you'll appreciate it all the more if you know what it's going to do to you; the _anticipation_ always adds a piquancy to the eventual punishment that you just don't get with a sudden surprise. And I want you to really _savour_ this punishment, kitten; it's really one for the connoisseur, like myself, so you're very lucky I'm treating a KFC bucket meal philistine like yourself to it." 

_Fucking uppity, patronising, little shit. I fucking hate KFC!_ thinks Seb, unable, of course, to say so.

"Now, these cushions, under your knees, aren't fixed; they're on runners, so I can unlock them and - whoops! See? Your knees slide outwards under your weight. But, you can keep them from sliding out like that by flexing your inner thighs - yes, just so - and by grasping the bar at the top of the frame. What I am going to do next is to attach this steel dildo - well, it's more like a probe, really, a nice thick, long one - to these flexible metal strips, which work with the knee cushions. A sort of inverse relationship, if you like; the further apart the cushions go, the further upwards the strips push the probe. 

So, if you let your knees slide outwards, you get probed more _intimately_ , my dear. Let yourself sink down too far, and you'll set off a shock generator, which delivers shocks of varying intensity to your arse, balls and cock. The severity of the shocks may or may not be related to how far apart the knee cushions are at any time. It's very much like that time you rigged me up to that dildo impalement at the flat, remember, Sebby, only with added electric shocks. Quid pro quo, kitten, quid pro quo.

So, you're going to feel something cold at your arse now; that's lube, which also acts as an extremely efficient conductivity agent, and that's - sorry, did I make you jump? - the probe, sliding in - now! Yes, it _is_ thick, isn't it? And that's only the tip.

I'll pop back every so often to see how you're doing. I should mention that there are also nipple electrodes and a locking sound attachment, so you'd better ensure I don't catch you slacking, baby."

With that, Jim kisses Seb lightly on the nose and wanders off, leaving his tiger tense-thighed and apprehensive.


	10. Chapter 10

Jim comes to with a jump in front of the TV. Shit, he must have dozed off. The empty glass which had contained a generous splash of one of the French reds from the cellar and a half-eaten sandwich lie on the coffee table before him. The TV is still flickering quietly in the background. Looking at his watch, he realises that he’s been asleep for nearly two hours. Time to go and check on Sebbikins.

The sight that greets him is truly one for the photo album. Seb is effectively hanging from the wrist restraints, his eyes closed and his head drooping forwards on to his chest. As Jim watches, there is a slight crackling noise and Seb’s whole body jerks upwards, his cock twitching and his thigh muscles trembling and spasming as he tries to pull his legs together and raise himself off of the electrified dildo. _Mmmmmppphhhhhh._ A long, gurgled groan and another string of saliva spill from the gag.

Sebastian does not appear to be aware of Jim’s presence as he pads quietly over to the bondage frame and slips behind his bound sniper. Slipping off one of his espadrilles, Jim brings it down sole first, hard on Seb’s arse, eliciting another gurgled groan as poor Seb visibly jumps in surprise.

“Wakey, wakey, slacker! “ Jim brings the shoe down another couple of times on Seb’s bottom, watching it tremble quite beautifully, not only from the smacks, but also as Seb struggles to keep himself from sinking back down on to the dildo.

“I have to say that I am most unimpressed with your stamina, kitten,” Jim purrs, “I rather thought you’d be better than this, flopping about like some weedy slacker and trying to go to sleep. I thought my big, strong tiger might be a bit more – well – big and muscly and _manly_. I think you need a bit of training – what did they used to call it? Ah, yes – a short, sharp, shock – to make you a sleek, scary tiger again, not a soggy, wussy one.”

Sebastian groans and begins to gurgle unintelligibly through the gag as Jim unpacks the rest of the electro-equipment, pulling up a chair to lay it all out whilst he works out what goes where. “What’s that, baby? You think a spot of electro-torture should get you back on form? Yes, I agree; I think that’s very wise of you, kitten. I don’t want you going all old, saggy cloth cat, baggy, and a bit loose at the seams on me; you are supposed to be my fearsome _killer_ , after all.”

The additional items are pretty much as Jim said earlier: a pair of rather ferociously sprung nipple clamps, and a long, slim, sound, which can be locked on to the metal bands already attached to Sebastian’s cock and balls. Seb groans and struggles to no avail as Jim snaps the nipple clamps on, ensuring that they are attached as tightly and as painfully as possible, and then throws his head back in a silent scream as Jim lets the sound slide smoothly into place in his cock.

“Delicious, kitten. You look good enough to eat. But let’s have some fun first, eh?”

Taking the control pad in hand, Jim switches it over to manual, and tries an experimental “level 2” shock. Sebastian goes rigid, before relaxing with a loud _ooof_ as Jim flicks the current off again.

“Gosh, Sebbikins. That was only a 2, and this goes all the way up to 11!”

Sebastian gazes imploringly at him, attempting to make every fibre of his being look as pleading and contrite as he possibly can.

“Oh, just cut it out with the big kitten eyes, sweetcheeks. It doesn’t _really_ go up to 11.

“It actually goes up to 20.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "old, saggy cloth cat, baggy, and a bit loose at the seams" quote comes from [Bagpuss](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bagpuss/), a 1970s UK TV series featuring a large, saggy, pink and white striped cat stuffed toy named Bagpuss who, along with other toys/furniture, comes to life.
> 
> Both Jim and Seb, having (presumably) been born in the 1970s, would be familiar with Bagpuss, and would get the "saggy cloth cat" reference.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this time. Poor Sebastian's really having a bad time.

Seb is crying. Not the silent tears of emotion which sometimes well up and spill during sex, but full on, gasping sobs of pain. Jim has long gone beyond being teasing and mischievous and has thrown himself enthusiastically into full on torture. Sebastian can’t pretend that he’s surprised, really; he knows Jim better than any living soul (or dead one, for that matter) has ever known Jim, and he knows just how merciless and sadistic and downright _evil_ the cunting little fucker can be.

Jim has shocked him over and over again, experimenting with the settings on the control, from a tingling level 1 or 2 through the intensely painful levels 10 and 11 right up to the truly excruciating level 20. He has pulsed short blasts of pain through him in rapid succession, making Seb jerk and twist like a macabre marionette, and has sat calmly pressing the button to send longer, joint-wrenching, waves of agony through him, watching dispassionately as Sebastian screams himself hoarse as he continues to torture him.

He has removed the sound a couple of times, first to run an electrified pinwheel over the head of his cock, and later to attach one of the nipple clamps to the tip before shocking it. If Seb had nearly passed out when the vicious teeth of the clamp sank into his sensitive flesh, he screamed and sobbed and retched when Jim started shocking it. And when Jim pushed the sound back in again afterwards.

He has tried to beg despite the gag, which has now gone beyond painful and is causing constant spasms in his jaw muscle, but his pleas have just come out as gurgled moans that have made Jim laugh and torture him all the more.

He has twisted and struggled and screamed to no avail and he knows that he must look a total wreck, his face covered in drool and snot and tears, which have in turn dripped down on to his chest and belly.

Jim appears to be totally unaffected. “Cry baby Sebby, cry baby Sebby! What a filthy, dribbly, _snotty_ little kitten you are, _Bagpuss_. And what a rubbish right hand man. All one of our enemies would have to do is stick something up your arse and slap a couple of clamps on your nips and you’d be snivelling all over the place. Really, tiger, it’s rather pathetic.”

He flicks the switch on the handset , sits back and watches as Sebastian screams and convulses some more.

“Oh, God, this is getting a bit _boring_ kitten. There’s only so much screaming and crying you can do before it all gets just too tedious and Daddy gets bored. But I know – let’s play a game! If you play well enough, Sebbikins, Daddy’ll let you out of that frame and you can have a treat.

So, here’s the game. Remember your Morse code, Bagpuss? Good. Well, I am going to switch this control back from manual, and you are going to send me a nicely worded, polite message, by way of flashes of the little light here, asking – no, make that _begging_ \- me to untie you and give you your treat. In Morse code; see, you can make it flash “dot” with a quick bounce on the dildo, and “dash” by sitting on it a bit longer. Isn’t that clever?

So, _darling_ , I shall just sit back here with my distinctly moreish glass of wine, and look forward to receiving an extremely courteous, deferential and _flattering_ begging letter from you, and then I’ll consider your request. Off you go. And remember, kitten, spelling, grammar and punctuation are extremely important, so don’t make any sloppy mistakes.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is an odd one. Sebastian's turn to be a bastard.
> 
> In addition, there are references to a very famous poem by a 20th century British poet in here, and to a cult 60s TV series. Hope you spot them!

Sebastian lies snuggled up on the sofa, a thick patchwork quilt over him, his head cushioned in Jim's lap as he's fed thick, creamy chicken soup. Jim, displaying yet another talent that Sebastian did not know he possessed, has set and lit a fire, which now blazes in the hearth in the inglenook. Jim strokes his hair in between spoonfuls of the delicious soup, murmuring sweet nothings about what a brave tiger he is, and how sorry Jim is for hurting his darling tiger.

Earlier, Jim had at last realised that Seb was in far too much pain and quite simply too exhausted to "transmit" a coherent message in Morse Code, so had at last taken pity on his tiger and released him from his electro-torture and the bondage frame. Jim had then run them both a long, hot, deliciously scented bath and had spent ages massaging the knots from Seb's shoulders, washing and conditioning his hair, and drying him off with warm, fluffy towels from the airing cupboard before treating him with analgesic cream and painkillers.

As he has on so many occasions previously, Sebastian can only marvel at the abrupt changes in Jim's mood: from sadistic and seemingly devoid of emotion to the point of total detachment, to warm and sympathetic and caring, within the blink of an eye. It is almost as if, having inflicted so much pain and suffering, bad!Jim's sadism is sated for the time being, and good!Jim then overcompensates wildly, wrapping Seb up and endlessly cooing over him, babying him until it becomes intolerable.

A good way to escape the constant attention is for Seb to drop off, and he does, stomach full, warm and fuzzy, pain-free at last. Snuggled cosily into Jim's lap, only vaguely aware intermittently as Jim turns the TV on and flicks through the channels, settling eventually, somewhat improbably, on a documentary about Thomas Chippendale, Seb dozes.

~0~

When Sebastian awakes, to a bright litter of birdsong, tangled together with Jim under the quilt on the huge, squashy sofa, daylight throngs the cottage windows and the fire has died away to ash and the odd feebly glowing ember. He cannot recall feeling so content, so grounded in such a perfect moment, since - well, he can't recall. Seb considers vaguely whether Jim would ever agree to move out of London, to buy a country cottage like this, where they could potter about together, growing veg and raising chickens, between the beatings, rough sex and torture sessions. On second thoughts, the thought of Jim in wellies, holding a trowel, is just too incongruous, yet it has Seb smiling to himself. 

He gently disentangles himself from octopus!Jim and pads off to the kitchen. A proper coffee maker is such a fucking boon, and somewhat out of place in the rustic styled kitchen - Seb had briefly wondered whether he'd have to boil a pan of water on the Aga. Talking of the Aga, he fiddles with it for some time before the thing seems to light and start heating up. The hot plate smokes a little as it heats up, probably some residue on there from whenever it was last used, which Seb would imagine was pretty recently, given how bloody lovely the cottage is. He can't imagine it going any time at all without someone wanting to stay there, expensive as it is.

The fork starts to glow pretty quickly once it's placed on the hot plate. Seb bustles about, locating croissants and loading them, together with unsalted butter and apricot preserve, on to a tray with two mugs of steaming coffee, before taking them through to the front room. The fork is virtually incandescent when he returns to the kitchen to retrieve it, so he wraps the oven mitt around the handle before nipping back to the front room.

Jim is just coming around to the aroma of coffee and warm croissants, and it takes only a scintilla for Seb to straddle his thighs, pull his pyjama bottoms down and press the glowing tines of the fork against Jim's right buttock. Jim screams rather impressively, held still as Seb holds him down, the smell of singed flesh rather dampening his appetite for the warm, fluffy, croissants.

Sebastian stares down at the struggling, moaning, man pinned beneath him. Knowing Jim's love of classic British TV, he intones, diction crisp and precise, "Will you never learn? This is only the beginning. We do not wish to damage you permanently." 

Jim writhes, gasping. "Good! Very good, tiger! I can see why I like having you around!"

Seb pulls the fork from Jim's buttock, wincing as the blackened skin around the four bright red burn marks comes away with it. 

"You may regret that very soon, Jimmikins. _Quid pro quo_ , baby, _quid pro quo_."


	13. Chapter 13

It doesn't take long for Jim to recover himself. That, and for the pain of the livid brand on his buttock to really register. "What the _fuck_ was that, tiger? I was being all lovely and cuddly and fucking _adorable_ to you, and you attack me with a fucking hot fork? What the _fuck_ , Bagpuss?"

Sebastian slaps Jim's buttock, hitting the brand, as Jim yells and struggles. "You psychotic little fuck. You truss me up and torture me for fucking _hours_ , and laugh at me and call me fucking _Bagpuss_ , and then you wonder why I want to fucking _hurt_ you, you little shit? Yeah, I know _why_ you do it, fucker. You just want me to fuck you up some more, but the great fucking _genius_ , the _fearsome_ fucking James _Moriarty_ doesn't ever _ask_ for anything, does he? No, he just gets what he wants. So, I'll give it to you. I know what you want, you little bastard, and so fucking help me, you're going to fucking get it." 

He picks Jim up easily, tossing him over his shoulder, his arm curled tight around Jim's thighs as Jim hangs down, fists beating futilely against his back. "Don't piss me off, Boss. I've already got something fucking nasty lined up for you. You don't want to make it worse, trust me, babes."

Jim struggles even more once he realises it's the medical room Seb's taking him to, not the bed. He'd imagined Seb might give him a real sphincter-splitting fuck, tied to the four-poster. "No, sweetcheeks, not the bed. You're going to be strapped to the gynae chair, and I am going to fucking _hurt_ you. And not gentle like before... but bad... Yeah, babes?"

Jim shrugs, as far as he _can ___shrug, upside down over Seb's shoulder. "Yes, Sebby. It's Oscar night, and you're cooking with gas."


	14. Chapter 14

Sebastian has to admit that he is really impressed with the medical room. He and Jim, of course, have their own little torture-cum-playroom at their main flat, but it's a bit spartan and rudimentary compared to this; this really _looks_ the part, from the spotless, bright white tiling to the gleaming steel gurney and instrument table. And, of course, the utterly magnificent gynae chair, festooned with straps and buckles and creating quite the imposing centrepiece to the room.

No, their little room is much more functional, much more _stained_ , for want of a better word, although that's really just accurate. It's seen a lot more blood and God knows what other bodily fluids in its time, after all, whereas this wonderful room is for relatively clinical and stain-free amateurs.

The gynae chair really is great, though. Jim struggles for all he's worth, knowing that once Seb has him strapped down and restrained, he's fucked. But then, Jim should know by now that however much of a fight he puts up, no matter how dirty and underhanded he plays, Seb is the bigger and the stronger of the two of them, and will always be able to dominate his smaller Boss physically.

So, Jim finds himself strapped down relatively quickly, his wrists secured up over his head, locked into leather cuffs which are chained to a bar at the top of the chair. Seb attaches a thick leather restraint around his chest, and another across his hips, so that his upper body is held pretty much immobile, with only the slightest wriggle room. 

Then his legs are locked into the stirrups, straps holding his thighs, calves and ankles in place as Seb winches them apart, up and out to the side, so that Jim is left with his thighs bent back and almost resting on the sides of his chest, his cock, balls and arse totally defenceless and open to whatever Seb has in store for him. 

Sebastian steps back to admire his handiwork, running a fingertip absent-mindedly up and down the crease between Jim's buttocks. "Lovely, absolutely lovely, babes. You're laid out for me like a bloody feast. Just delicious." Seb turns away briefly to wheel over a metal table, a towel spread over the table top so that Jim can't see what's on it.

"First things first, baby. You're going to wear a cockring while I play with you, because I know what a little painslut you are, and I don't want you coming before I give permission - _if_ I give permission, that is. Depends on how good a boy you're being. Secondly, I'm going to blindfold you with this half hood; I'm going to leave your slutty little mouth free, but I don't want you to be able to see what I'm doing, because that'll ruin the game."

Once Jim's cock is trussed up with the ring, and Sebastian's fastened the hood over Jim's upper face and eyes, he notes with satisfaction how Jim's cock is already hard, a bead of fluid just forming at the tip. Oh, the little slut's turned on already, is he? _Good_.

"So, babes, here's the game. It's called, "Guess what Seb's put in my arsehole", and it's really easy to play. I'm going to fuck your slutty little hole with a variety of objects and all you have to do is guess what I'm using on it. Guess right, and I'll give you a nice little fuck and maybe even let you come. But guess wrong, and you'll get a reaming that'll leave you limping for the next fortnight. Got it, babes? Good, then we can begin."


	15. Chapter 15

Jim wriggles wildly, as far as he is able to, in his humiliating position. "You fucking untie me right now, Moran, or I'll cut your fucking bollocks off and feed them to you, deep fried with sweet and sour fucking sauce."

Sebastian simply fingers Jim's beautifully exposed, pink little hole in response, smiling as it stutters open at his touch. "Shut it, Jimmikins, or I'll gag you and do it anyway. The reaming, that is. I mean it, slut. You'll feel like your arse has spent a day with the Eurostar up it by the time I've finished with it if you don't shut your face."

Jim subsides, but Seb can almost feel his eyes boring through the hood, blazing with anger at his helplessness and humiliation.

He considers the various items he's collected together on the metal table, adjusting himeslf in his trousers as he visualises Jim's reaction to them. Jim looks good enough to eat. Speaking of which.... it won't harm if he has a little taste, will it? He leans in between Jim's splayed thighs, breathing warm air over his hole before licking delicately around the rim with the very tip of his tongue. _Jesus_. Jim tastes fucking divine.

It takes every ounce of Sebastian's self control not to simply mash his face between Jim's legs and eat him out until he's begging to come. Instead, he contents himself with tonguing Jim's balls and perineum until they're soaking wet and glistening with saliva, which trickles down between Jim's buttocks and over his anus.

Jim groans. "Tickles."

"Well then, lover boy, let's give you something to scratch that itch, yeah?" Seb reaches for his first implement. "Let's begin. Guess what Seb's putting into your hole now. Three guesses, slutlet; get them all wrong and you pay a forfeit."

He eases the marker pen in gently, having first coated its end with lube. It's only about as thick as his finger, and smooth ended; Seb certainly wasn't going to push it in cap end first. A trip to A&E to remove pen caps from the rectum would dampen the mood a little, after all, although the humiliation potential there (for Jim, obviously) is enormously attractive.

"Pen." Jim grunts, sounding as if he's waiting for a bus. He's going to pretend this is all beneath him, is he, and too boring for words? Seb grins. _Just you wait, darling._

"Well done, Jimmy! No forfeit this time. We'll try the next one but, first, lick this clean for me." Seb brings the pen up to Jim's mouth; it's clean, apart from the coating of lube, but Jim's not to know that. Predictably, Jim snaps his mouth shut.

"Oh, no, no, baby. Open your slut mouth up or I'll open it for you." From the set of Jim's jaw, Seb can tell that if he wasn't hooded, he'd be staring up defiantly at him. "OK then, fucker, you do like making things hard on yourself."

Seb punches Jim in the solar plexus, not too forcefully, but hard enough to make Jim gasp. Seb grabs his jaw, twisting his face so that he can't close his mouth, forcing the pen in and out as Jim struggles and retches.

"Lick it clean, you little bastard. That's it, suck all that slime off it. What's the matter, baby? It's your slime. It's only been up _your_ arse, after all. I'm not making you clean something that's been up someone else's arse, for fucks sake."

Only when he is satisfied that Jim is being obedient, and has licked and slurped the pen spotlessly clean, does Seb remove it from his mouth. "Good boy. That's enough for now. Time for round two. What's in your hole _now_?"


	16. Chapter 16

Sebastian surveys the items laid out before him on the trolley. Thin or bulky? Smooth or ribbed? What about something unbearably itchy? Or a nice, fat, _burning_ plug of ginger? So many choices and so much time. Seb smiles to himself. _It's good to be me._

He selects a carrot from the trolley; it's wonderfully shaped, tapering from a rather sharp, pointed tip to a wide, fat, base. And it's cold. Very cold. Seb is a stickler for keeping perishables in the fridge. 

Jim twitches as Seb introduces the tip into his hole. It's still looking pretty pink and pristine and perky, ripe for getting stretched out and swollen with use. But, for now, Seb'll be generous, and treat it kindly.

"So, _fucktoy_ , what's in your fuckhole now?"

Jim swallows, nervous. He knows that he really hurt Seb earlier, really _tortured_ him, until his strong, brave tiger broke down and cried with pain and exhaustion. It is really very difficult to get his tough sniper into such a state, and he knows that he may have overstepped the mark. 

Not that either of them doesn't enjoy a little really fucking _intense_ pain every now and then. But, as Seb said, _quid pro quo_. What goes around, comes around. You torture me, mate, you got to fucking expect some of the same in return. And, the gentler Seb treats him now, at the beginning of this session, the more unpleasant the repercussions will be, later.

Whatever Seb's sodomising him with now, it's bloody cold. And hard. And getting wider by the second as Seb forces it into his hole. Without lube. 

As if his tiger's reading his mind, Seb speaks. "No lube for you this time, babes. You're nice and wet and ready from what I stuffed up your hole earlier, and a greedy little fuckhole like you can't wait for something else to fill you. So, c'mon, slut, moan for me. And don't forget your three guesses."

Jim wriggles, as far as he can, and moans, obediently. Perhaps if he really plays up to it, Seb'll be less cruel. Or perhaps he'll just fuck him over like he'd expect him to. Jim smiles. _That's my tiger_. 

"Ohhhhhh. It's so cold, baby. It hurts. Sebby, it _hurts_ , and it's so thick. A dildo from the fridge?"

Sebastian grins. Jim can't fuck up this early on, surely? "No, fuckhole, not a dildo. Guess again. Shall I fuck you with it, so's you can get a better idea of what's in your hole?"

Jim moans as he starts shoving the vegetable hard in and out of his arse, varying the angle so that the sharp tip probes his sensitive internal tissues. "More, babes? Shall I fuck you harder?"

"Noooo! Please, Sebby!"

"OK, love, I'll give you a little clue. Assuming you can walk once I'm finished with you, I'll make you use this, and some of the other items I've got here for you, to make a stir fry, and then I'll watch as you eat it all up. Whether you lick the ingredients clean first is up to you. So, another guess, sluthole?"

Jim thinks frantically. A vegetable of some kind, then. Too narrow and hard to be a courgette, and too pointed to be a leek. A sweet potato? It feels bloody enormous at the thick end. A carrot? Yes, a carrot!

"Carrot!" he blurts out, weakly.

"Well done! Clever little Jimmikins! That gets you a little treat." Jim groans loudly as he feels the hot wetness of Seb's mouth envelop the head of his cock, lapping at the slit, and sucking just down to the sensitive frenulum.

"Like that, baby? Shall I make you come?" Seb goes back to slurping, filthily loudly.

"Please, Sebby. Yes, please!"

"All in good time, fuckhole. First, let's get you ready for round three!"


	17. Chapter 17

Jim's forgotten what round they're on currently. Or he knows, but his brain's stopped working. Yeah, probably that. One's brain does tend to stutter and reel and rebel when one feels as if one's internal organs are being slowly crushed at the same time as one's back passage is being stretched open to tearing point. When Sebastian had first begun to push the plug? dildo? fucking _zeppelin_? into him, it hadn't felt too bad; big, certainly, but a bit soft and squishy, and squelchy with lubricant. No, it was once it had been pushed right up inside him and Seb had begun to somehow inflate or expand the bloody thing that Jim had started to grunt and struggle and panic.

Seb had ignored him, though, continuing with whatever he was doing until Jim was sure that something inside him was going to burst, and he'd begun to whine and plead. Seb had responded by forcing a dental gag between his teeth, ratcheting it open and stuffing a crusty, used dildo into Jim's gaping mouth, with a cheerful, "Suck on that, you little shit," as he continued to increase the pressure in Jim's distended bowels.

_Sebastian, you cunt._

Now, thankfully, Seb's left him alone to try to process the pain and the feeling of being totally and utterly stuffed full to bursting point. So he's lying back, helpless in his restraints, feeling as if a rugby ball's been forced up his arse, muscles stiff and trembling with tension, toes curling and uncurling, trying to focus on the rubber dick wedged in his mouth rather than the fucking monstrosity lodged in his fundament. Just as he's about to lose it completely, sweat soaking the hair at his temples, and tears beginning to leak from the corners of his eyes, ready to scream and cry and do _anything_ just to get Sebastian back and relieving some of the dreadful pressure inside him, Seb re-appears beside him.

"Had enough, baby? All fucked out for the time being? D'ya want me to take that nasty thing out of your poor swollen little arsehole?" Jim nods, vigorously, then stifles a sob as Seb gazes at him expectantly.

"You know the rules, babes. Well? What's in your hole, Jimmikins? C'mon, get this right and I'll untie you and let you suck me off. Fuck it, get it right and we'll have a long, wet, fucking _filthy_ 69 sesh in bed for the rest of the evening. You love that, don't you babes, me slurping at your cock and balls while I'm choking you on mine?"

Jim wriggles. "Eh-ee, ah ahnt eeahk."

"Fuck, sorry babes, let's get that gag off, eh, and that dirty cock out of your mouth."

The dildo's withdrawn and the gag unscrewed, and Jim works the stiffness gratefully from his jaw. "It's an inflatable plug or dildo - something like that - I don't know exactly, Seb, please!" Sebastian frowns and raises an eyebrow questioningly. "Please? Please take it out, Sebby. It hurts so much, please?"

"Hmmmm. Ok, slutlet, good enough. It _is_ inflatable, but it's a modern take on an old medieval torture device called a pear." Seb deflates the thing carefully, as Jim gasps in relief, the release of tension leaving him boneless with exhaustion. "Of course, the medieval ones were made of metal, and you'd be pretty fucked up after one of them had been up your arse."

Jim closes his eyes and smiles weakly. "Something to add to our interrogation repertoire, perhaps, tiger? When I feel more up to thinking about it. Come on, Sebby, get me off this thing and give me a hand."

As it happens, Jim is too wrung out and wobbly to even manage to climb off of the gynae chair when Seb frees him, let alone walk anywhere. Seb gathers the smaller man up in his arms and carries him through to the bedroom, Jim giggling almost hysterically, in the aftermath of his adrenal high, about being treated like a queen by his handsome Prince Sebastian. Placing Jim gently down on the soft, warm, quilt, Seb busies himself between his arse cheeks.

"Whatcha doin', Prinsh Shebby?" Jim's slurring slightly, exhausted but still buzzing.

"I'm taking care of your poor little bottom, babes. I've got some lovely cold whipped cream in the fridge, and I'm going to spread it all over your sore, swollen little hole, and then lick and kiss it all better for you. How does that sound, princess?"

"Delish, Shebs, delish..." Seb grins to himself as he nips quickly to the kitchen. Let Jim have a little nap; yeah, he could do with forty winks himself. They need to keep their strength up, after all; they have an evening of filthly 69-ing ahead of them...


	18. Chapter 18

Jim is asleep when Seb returns from the kitchen, pale limbs tangled in the embroidered quilt, lips slightly apart, breathing softly. His sweat-soaked hair has dried into a series of soft curls framing his face, so pale and delicately fragile that Jim looks for all the world like a painted porcelain doll, saved only from complete femininity by the strong line of his jaw, and the five o’clock shadow beginning to darken his chin and upper lip.

If he didn’t know better, Sebastian would bet that Jim plucked his eyebrows on a regular basis to shape them into those perfect arches which lend him his expression of perpetual surprised curiosity. Seb grins at the thought that, even in sleep, there should really be a comedy cartoon question or exclamation mark glowing above Jim’s head. 

But his grin fades to fond contemplation as Jim’s (albeit tinted) but impossibly long, glossy, sable eyelashes flicker slightly as he stirs in his sleep, murmuring something incomprehensible before settling back down. He’s so pretty, so _angelic_ , like this that Seb can’t tear his eyes away.

Shrugging aside the strange feeling in his tummy that Seb would call his heartstrings being tugged, if he were under the illusion that either of them still possessed a heart to be tugged at, he slips quietly underneath the quilt and snuggles up to Jim, curling around the smaller man and holding him close. With his nose buried in Jim’s hair, cocooned in the warmth and surrounded by Jim’s familiar smell, Seb drifts off to sleep.

-O-

Sebastian’s awoken somewhat abruptly by something pushing insistently against him. It takes him a couple of seconds to work out where he is; the heat and smell of Jim beside him are right, but the quilt and the bed and the surroundings are all wrong.

Then he realises that the pushing sensation is actually Jim rutting against his thigh; Seb’s on his back with his legs spread, and Jim’s half straddling the left side of his body, breathing heavily just below Seb’s ear as he rubs his cock against his thigh.

“Woken up horny, have we, sweetheart?”

Jim jumps and pulls away, the guilty expression on his face making him look like a naughty schoolboy caught in the middle of doing something he shouldn’t, before hastily rearranging his features.

“So, Sebastian? I have a very sore bottom and a very hard prick, and I decided to do something about the prick first. And now you’re awake, you can give me a hand.”

Seb grins. “Sure you want a _hand_ , Boss? Cause I have something else in mind.”

Jim settles back on to the plump pile of pillows, crossing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes, as Seb arranges himself between his spread thighs.

“Mmmmm. Fellatio, and then food. Make yourself useful down there, tiger, and I may have a little amuse-bouche for you before supper.”


	19. Chapter 19

"Oh, Sebby, _darling_. You look so delectable, I could eat you all up!"

Sebastian stares up at Jim, his lips quirking into a smile at the rather incongruous sight of his Boss, naked except for the floral Cath Kidston pinny, twirling a pair of chain-linked clover clamps around his left index finger.

"I was under the impression you already were, Boss?"

Jim grins at him, bending down to claim Seb's mouth in a biting kiss, sloppy and wet and filthy, fucking between Seb's lips with his tongue, nipping at them hard enough to draw blood.

"Mmmmmmm." Jim pulls back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "You taste lush, tiger. Strawberries and cream and blood. Scrummy."

Sebastian shifts, the wood of the old, heavy kitchen table hard against his buttocks and shoulders. Jim's idea of "supper" today is rather unusual, to say the least, but Seb's not complaining, a tied down, splayed out serving platter, ready for Jim to eat from his buff, gleaming body.

He's had chilled strawberries and raspberries smeared over and licked up from his nipples, Perrier-Jouët lapped from his tummy button (Jim's always had a thing about Seb's oh-so-aesthetically-pleasing _innie_ ), and his mouth used as a goblet for a particularly delicious Canadian Icewine, which they passed back and forwards in the type of filthily sloppy kiss Jim usually reserves for mouthfuls of come after one or other of them has sucked the other off.

"You've been such a good boy, tiger, I think it's time for a little reward. Time to saddle you up!"

Jim leans down over Seb's chest, sucking his left nipple up into his mouth, licking and nipping until Seb's groaning and writhing against the straps at his wrists and ankles securing him to the table.

Stroking Seb's burgeoning erection, Jim slips a black rubber cockring down over it, fitting it snugly at the base before returning his attention to Seb's nipples. Sebastian moans again as his right nipple is given the same treatment as the left, leaving them both swollen and red and beading lazy trickles of blood.

"Tiger, you look soooo fucking lush. I want to clamp those pretty little nips and get you squirming for me, baby."

Sebastian gasps, screwing his eyes tight shut, as Jim secures one, and then the other, of the clover clamps on to the over-sensitive nubs, hissing in pain as Jim jiggles the chain linking them before leaning back in to his chest to lick away the sluggish trails of blood.

Seb eyes Jim's erection, tenting the pinny. "You're gonna stain that, Jim. There's a big wet patch under the pocket."

Jim huffs. "Don't be so fucking precious, Sebby. I could buy this cottage and everything in it oodles of times over. I don't think the owner's going to be pronouncing me anathema over a slightly soiled kitchen apron."

Bouncing away to the fridge, Jim returns with an enormous tub of clotted cream. "I popped this in the freezer for a little while, to get it really nice and _cold_. I think, Sebbikins, after your attempted mangling of my arse, it's the only thing that'll soothe my poor, sore, bottom enough to let me ride your cock. The added bonus, for me, at least, is that it'll be bloody freezing on your cock and bollocks."

Seb grits his teeth as Jim scoops up a generous dollop of partly frozen clotted cream and smears it gleefully over his testicles.

"Fuck! _Fuck!_ Cold - it's fucking cold!"

Jim smirks. "That is rather _the point_ , tiger. A little more - just so! And now for the cock. Shaft first, Sebby, or shall I go straight for the _slit_?"


	20. Chapter 20

"You fuck. You little _fuck_!"

Seb's bollocks are still aching painfully from the dollops of freezing clotted cream Jim plopped over them. Cradling them defensively (he doesn't want to even contemplate quite how fucking weak that would look to anyone spying on this particular fucking perv-fest) Seb eyes the inert body of his Boss lying unconscious on the floor, the come-splodged Cath Kidston pinny tangled rather comically beneath Jim's buttocks.

Seb allows himself something of a breathing space, knowing Jim'll be out for at least another twenty minutes or so, swaddling his crotch gently in a super soft fleecy blanket as he limps slowly to the bedroom. The little fuck has got one hell of a comeuppance due.

The breeding frame in the bedroom caught Seb's eye when they'd first explored the cottage, and he'd mentally filed it away for later but the opportunity to play with it hasn't presented itself until now. Pulling it out into the middle of the room and examining it in greater detail, Seb discovers some hitherto unnoticed attachments in a sling below the base of the bench which have him smiling to himself as he works out their various functions. 

_Oh Jim, baby, you are sooo going to love this._

_Not._

-O-

Jim comes to slowly, wincing as he remembers the thump Seb delivered to the side of his head when he at last freed him from the kitchen table. His tiger is in for one hell of a bollocking, getting so wound up about a little bit of cold cream. OK, and the choking, perhaps. And possibly the ice cubes Jim stuck up his arse whilst he was trying to force the clotted cream into his slit. Hmmm.

Trying to stretch out crick in his neck, he suddenly realises that he is unable to move. His hands and feet appear to be somehow stuck to the floor, and his neck is held up and forwards so that he can't dip his head to look down or backwards at himself. Struggling only makes his helplessness more obvious.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Jim jumps at the sudden sound of Seb's voice, somewhere off to his right, behind him.

"You're tied to a breeding frame, baby. Wrists, ankles, hips and chest all strapped down with thick, solid leather. Oh, and you can't move your head because I've attached a rather strict posture collar to the front of the frame."

Jim tracks Seb's footsteps as he pads around to the front of the frame and squats down in front of him, smiling sweetly.

"You look utterly delicious, baby, all trussed up like this. I'd like nothing more than to ram my cock right up your arse and ream you nice and hard until you're all wet and loose and sloppy with my come. However - " Seb gestures to the heat pack clamped in one large hand over his crotch, "your little notion of freezing my fucking genitals off has rather fucked up me giving you a good fucking, for the time being at any rate. So, I'm going to have to amuse myself another way, and what I really think'd amuse me at the moment is seeing you receiving the sort of fucking over you like dishing out."

_Shit_. For the umpteenth time in their long association, Jim realises that he's probably overstepped the mark. Perhaps a spot of grovelling'll satisfy Sebby. Sebby likes it when Jim grovels.

"Sebby. Sebby, _darling_ , I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have been so cruel to you, my poor tiger. Let me free and I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll be a really dirty, slutty little boy for you and you can do whatever you want with me."

Sebastian chuckles, a long, deep rumble. "Sorry, it ain't gonna wash this time, Boss. I can currently do whatever I want with you anyway, and you definitely need a spot of punishment, so just suck it up baby."


	21. Chapter 21

Seb stands and, much to Jim's chagrin, walks back behind him where he can't see what his trusty sniper is up to.

"Seb?"

Silence, apart from a couple of metallic chinks and the sound of something being slid across the floor.

“ _Seb?_ ”

“Shush, baby. Just you be a good, patient little boy and wait there. You’ll be finding out what I’ve got for you soon enough, sweetcheeks.”

A few more clicking noises and a soft rustling, and then Jim can sense that Seb’s moved right behind him again, which is confirmed by a hard slap to his arse.

“Right, Jimmikins. Let’s get you wired up.”

Jim lets out a most undignified yelp as Seb’s hand closes unexpectedly around his testicles, rolling them gently in his fingers and stroking his perineum with his thumb. 

“Mmmm, babes. Just gotta attach – this - around _here_ , and – this – around _there_ , and we’re nearly there.”

“Nearly _where_ , Moran? What the fuck are you doing to my balls? Get your fucking great clumsy paws off of them this instant!”

“Sorry, sweets, no can do. Just you keep quiet, like I said, or I’ll fetch a nice big cock gag for you to choke on, OK?”

Jim glowers at the wall ahead of him, twisting and pulling hard at the restraints as Seb continues to do fuck knows what to his genitals, concluding very quickly that he is not getting free of the breeding frame any time soon. Another tug at his balls has him wincing and trying to buck Seb’s hands away. 

“Fuck it, Seb! Just fucking stop whatever it is you’re doing and let me go!”

Seb jumps up and walks around to face Jim. “You must really want that cock gag then, Boss, eh? OK, stay right there and I’ll get it for you.”

He pads over to the well-stocked shelves covering the far wall, deliberating over which gag to use, plumping eventually for a thick latex cock-shaped gag in a rather shocking shade of neon pink. Despite its colour, Seb is pleased to note that it is really rather impressively anatomically correct, the veins and ridges on its surface rendered lovingly in great detail. 

When Jim – predictably – starts to struggle and curse as Seb kneels down beside him, shaking his head (as far as he can, anyways, with the thick posture collar buckled around his neck) and trying to twist his face away, Seb simply presses hard against the nerves that force Jim’s jaws open, before pushing the gag none too gently into his mouth and buckling the strap tightly behind Jim’s head.

Jim’s muffled gurgles of outrage are music to Seb’s ears. Softly stroking Jim’s lips, stretched wide around the base of the gag, Seb leans in to peck a gentle kiss on the end of Jim’s nose. 

“See, baby, what happens when you’re a naughty boy? Big, bad old Sebby just has to keep you in your place. All you do by being a bad boy is wind me up and earn yourself even more punishments. I was going to be quite gentle with you, Jimmy, just a little bit of electro-torture to your bollocks, but now…”

Seb picks up something from just out of the line of Jim’s sight, and holds it up to him to see. A thin, long, shiny stainless steel rod, tipped with a ring formed of the same metal.

"A sound, Jimmikins. And not just any sound. This one is wired up for zapping your cock and, even better, this bit, on the end, locks. So once I've pushed this up your cock, baby, you aren't getting rid of it until I decide to unlock you."

As Jim begins to struggle even harder against the leather straps securing him to the frame, Seb leans down to whisper breathily into his ear.

"Mmmmm, baby, I'm looking forward to it, too. Oh, and I forgot to mention. This is the smallest gauge sound. I've got a whole case of them over there for you to enjoy, Jimmy, so let's get started."


	22. Chapter 22

Jim mmmphs and bucks, as far as he is able, as Seb begins to insert the well lubed-up sound into the tip of his cock, breathing heavily through his nose, his fingers and toes curling and uncurling as the metal slides deeper into the sensitive urethra. Seb works the instrument in gently; he doesn't want to damage Jim permanently, however much he's looking forward to tormenting the little shit in a moment or so.

"Sshhh, baby, don't make such a fuss. If I'd really wanted to hurt you, I'd have got you hard first, before I stuck it up you."

At last the sound is inserted fully, the lockable tip sitting snug against the end of Jim's cock. His face is a picture; his cheeks flushed and his hair curling in damp rings at his temples and over his forehead, and during all the mmmphing and struggling he's managed to drool all over himself too, his chin and the collar are wet and shiny with saliva.

Seb brushes a stray curl back from Jim's face. "Hey, Jimmy, you've got a kiss curl - right there in the middle - aw, sweetie, that's too cute."

If the murderous look in Jim's eyes is anything to go by, "cute" is not an epithet the world's only consulting criminal particularly relishes being applied to him.

"Yeah, baby. You look good enough to eat, all damp and buff and glowing, spread out there for me, all helpless and squirming. Would you like me to eat you out, Jimmy? Lick you and finger you and _tease_ you until you're all so hot and bothered and moaning for something nice and thick inside you? Something to really stretch you out and make you squeal?"

Jim groans into his gag, his stuffed cock twitching as he imagines Seb's mouth, warm and wet, covering him and Seb's tongue, oh-so-so skilful and eager, lapping filthily at his arsehole.

"Oh fuck, baby, I am so going to do that, later, _maybe_ , if you're a good boy but first, I reckon your poor little arsehole is feeling a little neglected, hmmmmmm? I mean, your mouth's all stuffed full of thick latex cock to suck on, and your prick is plugged right up with hard, cold steel, but your slutty little hole is all empty. Don't worry, sweetcheeks, I have just the thing to remedy that."

Jim struggles again initially when he hears Sebastian moving something across the floor behind him, but quickly resigns himself to not being able to see what's happening. If he's honest with himself, he's getting off as usual on the helplessness and the humiliation of his current situation, being restrained to the extent that he's utterly at Sebastian's mercy, about to have fuck knows what shoved up his arse and, if he's understood his chief of staff correctly, his cock and balls tortured mercilessly.

The fact that his prick is beginning to drizzle a steady stream of pre-come down on to the floor between his spread legs, despite the sound, doesn't escape Sebastian's notice. 

"Oh, you _are_ enjoying yourself there, aren't you baby? Let me just get this cranked up here and I'm betting I'll have you creaming yourself for me in no time."

Learning forward to nip at Jim's earlobe, and lick a long, wet, _lingering_ sweep along the sensitive pink shell of his ear, Seb murmurs, his voice a low growl oozing menace.

"Yeah, baby, you _dirty_ little fucker. You'll be so desperate to come, you're gonna beg me to let you do all the nastiest, filthiest, most perverted things for me, just to let you free so you can get yourself off.

And you're gonna _love_ it."


End file.
